Searching for Answers
by Louvampyer
Summary: Bare fic, JasonXPeter... Peter contemplates what his relationship with Jason really means


AN: I used the LA actor descriptions… deal with it… lol.. I don't own them…

Peter looked at his reflection in the mirror, brushing his teeth vigorously, using the back of his sleeve to wipe the tears from his cheeks. This was all so… wrong. So immoral. He tried, god he _really_ tried not to feel it, think it, _enjoy_ it the way he did, but every time Jason kissed him, touched him, fuck, every time Jason _looked_ at him, Peter felt that fire in the pit of his stomach, that tingling all over his skin, and that tugging at his heart telling him he was going to Hell. And that scared him more than anything else.

He leaned over the sink, spitting the foam and rinsing his mouth with a handful of water, throwing another few handfuls of cold water on his face to wash away his dried tears. He leaned closer to the mirror, looking into his own eyes. He couldn't be this person. He couldn't live in this sinful situation. It was so erroneous that, on his own, Peter couldn't find a way to validate it.

He was dabbing his face dry with a towel when the heavy door to the senior boys bathroom squeaked open and Jason kicked it shut behind him, bending to look under each stall, finding no on else in the room before stepping behind Peter and wrapping his arms around his waist, his chin resting on Peter's shoulder with a simple "Hey."

Peter sighed, hating the instant smile seeing Jason put on his face, hating that he was already leaning back into Jason's embrace. "Jason, this is… wrong."

Jason smiled playfully with a laugh, lifting a hand to twirl his fingers in Peter's hair. "I know, but we tried gelling it before and it didn't work, remember? Guess curls don't gel well."

Peter pushed his hand away gently. "Jase-"

Jason caught his hand, turning Peter around to face him, but Peter instantly looks to the ground. "Hey, look at me." He lifted Peter's chin. Shit, if Peter looked into his eyes, any resolution he had would melt. But he had to lock eyes with Jason, because there was nothing in the world that was safer than looking into Jason's eyes. "Peter, we're not doing anything wrong. **We're** not wrong."

Peter lowered his voice, though they were still the only ones in the room. "How can you say that when the bible-"

"Fuck the bible, Peter." Jason hadn't bothered to lower his voice at all, which made this statement far too prominent, hanging in the air like a warning.

Peter's eyes widened without him meaning for them to. Fuck the bible? What, did he need another reason to think he was going to Hell? "We shouldn't be…" Peter shifted slightly in Jason's arms, almost trying to pull away without wanting Jason to let go of him.

"Shouldn't be what Peter?" He tightened his grip on Peter just slightly. "Feeling it?"

Peter didn't know how to answer that, and a small "Ya," was all he managed to quietly reply.

"Why not? We wouldn't feel it if it was bad Peter." Peter was looking to the ground again, and Jason had to place his hand on Peter's cheek to lift his face again, whipping his thumb across Peter's soft cheek. "God wouldn't give us these feelings if they were bad."

God, that's what Peter was constantly trying to convince himself of, but then Sunday came and he stood up at the altar, and it felt like everyone was looking at him, like they could just tell, like they all knew and couldn't forgive him for it. There were times when Peter just told himself that if they couldn't understand that this was real, that was their problem. And at those moments when Peter was sure this was the most real thing in the world, he could completely forget about the bible. The bible told him he was wrong, never once had God told him he was wrong. Peter prayed several times a day, and in all the times he asked if he was all right in feeling this way for Jason, never once had he gotten the feeling that it was wrong. It seemed that when he was praying, Peter felt the most secure about his relationship with Jason, and when he was lying in Jason's arms, Peter never felt more at peace with God.

He forced himself to look back up to Jason, perfect Jason. The Jason that everyone wanted, and by some almost sick twist of fate, Peter got. Every once in awhile, (_rarely_, but it was there) Peter felt an odd wrench in his heart telling him that not even Jason believed what he was trying to convince Peter of. Jason was so sure of himself, Peter had to believe him. But if _Jason_ was so sure it was right to feel these things, why couldn't Peter just _know_? Why did it take convincing? He finally locked eyes with Jason again, his own eyes pooling with water, but not crying. "We're so fucked up." He managed a weak laugh, but it came out more of a strangled cry.

Jason laughed, a bit more real than Peter had, pulling Peter closer to him, into a short hug. "Ya, fucked up." He pulled back just slightly, so he could look Peter in the eye. "But not wrong."

Peter was silent for a long moment. _Not Wrong. It's not wrong._ He repeated this to himself a few times over, nodding slowly in response to Jason, finally squeezing Jason's hand softly, repeating it once out loud in agreement. "We're not wrong."

Jason smiled softly, "Ya," and leaned forward to catch Peter's lips in a soft kiss, and as much as Peter hated himself for kissing him back, he believed him. He believed Jason when he said they were okay. Jason had that twang in his voice that when he spoke, there was nothing Peter could do but believe him. And maybe if he believed him long enough, he'd eventually understand it all, and know that, ya, they really were okay.


End file.
